


if you want me to be yours, well, then you gotta be mine

by softestprettyboy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Weecest, ageswap au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-15 00:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19284745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestprettyboy/pseuds/softestprettyboy
Summary: I was inspired by the little Ageswap!AU drabble that was sent to @holdmesamthatwasbeautiful on tumblr, and my fingers just sorta slipped.





	if you want me to be yours, well, then you gotta be mine

Getting lost in a world of serial killers was the only way Sam could silence the murderous desire roaring deep in his own gut. If he just kept his eyes focused on the words on the page, the words would turn into sentences and the sentences into paragraphs, and soon enough the sun would shine through moth-eaten curtains to congratulate him for managing a night of extinguishing a lust-filled fire and swallowing the tar-black smoke.

Sam’s attention span was exceptional, but even his eyes tended to wander while reading for hours on end. It wasn’t his fault, he told himself, because the dim light coming from the crooked lamp on the bedside table didn’t really do much more than make his eyes tired, and every blink felt like an opportunity to glance away from the book in his hands and look towards the sleeping form of his little brother.

A sleeping Dean was somehow even more ethereal than an awake Dean, and Sam wondered if anyone else in the world used such words as ethereal to describe their little brothers. Though, any other word would have only been an understatement, and Sam never underestimated his little brother’s capabilities in any way, because even in his sleep Dean had the power to make Sam look back at the book, gripping it a little tighter, full of shame.

If Sam had kept looking, he knew that he would have seen golden-blonde hair illuminated by the lamp he had left on, even though Dean had whined about not being able to sleep because of it for five full minutes before drifting off. He would have seen the feather-light touch of Dean’s long lashes against the highs of his cheeks, the soft curve of his nose, and the freckle on his upper lip that Sam could have spotted even in pitch-black darkness. No one, absolutely no one, had the right to look so beautiful in a dusty old motel room John had paid for with one of his fake credit cards.

They were too old to share a bed now, John had said one morning after finding Dean sleeping with his limbs wrapped around his big brother’s body, Sam lying awake with his legs dangling off the edge of the single bed. Perhaps it was convenient, using their ages against them, but Sam knew what the dark glint in John’s eyes had really meant that morning. Even after that, Dean had persistently kept asking to push their beds together, up until one night in Cave Creek when Sam had raised his voice at him, breaking Dean’s heart as well as his own. It seemed that a heart four years younger was much easier to stitch back together, after all.

“What’re you reading?” came a sleep-soft voice from a few feet away, and Sam’s heart jumped up to his throat before sinking back down to his chest.

“A book”, Sam answered, eyes so glued to the word _deranged_ under the chapter focusing on John Wayne Gacy that Sam’s vision went slightly blurry.

“Duh”, Dean snorted, and all the while staring down at the book, Sam could tell that his little brother’s face was smushed into the pillow to hide a yawn, while his body was wrapped around a blanket because he got too hot underneath it and too uncomfortable without a blanket at all. “What’s it about?”

“Serial killers.”

Sam knew that Dean was well aware of what the book he was reading was about. He had read him bits and pieces of the Jeffrey Dahmer chapter a few nights ago, and Dean had been there with him when he had checked the book out of a small-town library a few states ago. The library wasn’t going to miss the book, and even if it did, Sam thought that it was a small price to pay for his sanity.

“In general?” Dean asked, and it made Sam inhale sharply though his nose. If Dean kept asking questions, Sam would end up losing his focus and looking at his little brother, which was exactly what Dean wanted. Sam knew that plan of action, but always fell for it nonetheless.

“Read me a little something?” Dean didn’t seem discouraged by Sam’s lack of reply in the least, and Sam had proved his lack of self-control many a times, so Dean knew to keep pushing his luck until he got what he wanted.

“No”, came out of Sam’s mouth before his brain could register what he had said. It was the word Dean hated the most, especially when it was aimed at him, making Dean not want to give in, out of spite if nothing else.

“I can’t sleep.”

“You managed just fine a few minutes ago.”

Sam was distracted by the thumping of his heart and the rushing of his blood, still staring at the same word on the same page, not noticing the shadow of his little brother shifting, nor hearing the shuffle of bare feet against the carpeted floor. The game was over once he stared into emerald green eyes, Dean smiling at him as if he was the most innocent creature in the world, which wasn’t possible while he was on his knees between Sam’s parted legs, on Sam’s bed, wearing nothing but his freckles and a pair of worn-out cotton briefs.

“I can’t read to you without the book”, Sam sighed when Dean’s hands pried the book away from his big brother, closing it and reaching over to place it on the bedside table, coming dangerously close to Sam for him to inhale some sweet little brother scent.

“You weren’t gonna read me anything, anyway.”

“Yeah, I was.”

“No, you weren’t. The next chapter’s about Richard Ramirez, and if you think I can’t take a story or two about the Milwaukee Cannibal, you sure as hell won’t read to me about the Night Stalker.”

“Dahmer ate parts of his victims to feel closer to them”, Sam then said, like it was the most mundane thing to ever exist, while Dean’s fingertips played with the hem of his t-shirt. The sentence only earned him a shrug from Dean, who looked up at him when Sam’s hands came down to cover his brother’s much smaller ones, stopping them from tugging his shirt up. The look Dean gave him ate away at Sam’s heart, but he doubted that it was bringing them any closer.

After all, it was hard for two brothers to get any closer than Sam pinning Dean’s body down onto the mattress in the following moment, long fingers wrapped around slim wrists, pinning them down above Dean’s head, and the most sinful little whimper leaving Dean’s lips. There was no shame, just a victorious grin on his little brother’s lips for making his big brother give in, give him everything he wanted.

It was a roller coaster and a merry-go-round, both at the same time. While out at a diner, or a truck-stop bathroom, Sam was forced to witness sleazy old men drooling after Dean who by no means was oblivious to the attention he got, only adding fuel to the fire by pouting at them all lamb-like and innocent. Sam wondered if the men couldn’t see his name written all over the boy, because his brain could only think _mine_ while he ushered Dean out and back into the car, as if he was any better than the sleazes inside.

Then he had Dean like this, pliant and willing and oh-so needy, offering himself to his big brother in the privacy of a dimly-lit motel room, promising to be good and quiet while their father slept on the other side of the thin half-wall that separated the two beds from the third one. And those were the moments when Sam fought the hardest, trying not to give in when Dean was begging and whining _please please please_ before Sam’s lips finally latched onto the side of Dean’s neck, wishing he could leave his mark there.

If this was something Dean was going to grow out of, Sam could just as well take it while it was still offered to him on a silver platter, then go back to pretending that he didn’t want this when the sun was up again. Dean slept best with a belly full of big brother white, and Sam needed to light another fire to be put out on a new sleepless night that he knew would come sooner than later.


End file.
